In my first email to my parents after my [late] arrival in Oxford, I described being here as living in a painting. I've seen traditional English architecture plenty of times in photos and paintings, but being here doesn't quite seem real yet. It's too perfect. The sky (when applicable) is too blue, and the clouds are too white. The grass is too green, and seems altogether untouched by people or anything else.
The people, however, at least from my relatively limited interaction, seem to be a different story. Inside the gate, you first meet the porters- the single most helpful group of people I've met in recent memory. The tutors are just as amicable, to my surprise. Outside the walls of Trinity College, however, people seem decidedly unconcerned with their neighbors on the sidewalk. I suppose such an assessment has to have some experiential basis, and I guess if I had to identify that basis, it would be the first hour or so after my arrival at the Oxford bus station. To say the very least, the people were unhelpful to this obviously lost tourist. As I stood for several minutes outside what I now know to be the gate to Trinity college itself, I was told to bugger off at least twice (the third time was debatable-sometimes these people mumble a little), and was dismissed as a salesman.
I do have another five weeks, though, to let them prove me wrong--and I'm all too willing to do so.
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Some of the Oxonians do seem a bit rude outside the gates but think of it from their perspective. Every summer, their town is invaded with hoards of (generally, speaking of course) loud, confused, ignorant American students who only want to take pictures and sample the local pubs. I wouldn't hold their rudeness against them!
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